


Imaginings

by yetanotherramblingfangirl



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23345872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yetanotherramblingfangirl/pseuds/yetanotherramblingfangirl
Summary: A collection of prompts fics.
Relationships: Charles Carson & Elsie Hughes, Charles Carson/Elsie Hughes
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. I'll Never Find Another You

Mrs. Hughes sighed as she settled before her vanity to sort her hair for bed. Exhaustion was not a new experience for her. Service was physically and emotionally demanding. Being at the beck and call of others and not being allowed to voice an opinion was difficult. Especially when someone else’s selfishness affected others. She’d always had to bite her lip that extra bit harder to keep herself in check.

But this was different. She wasn’t upset about someone being careless or insensitive or any of the other myriad irritations she was forced to push aside over the course of her day. This was much more personally devastating: Mr. Carson was leaving.

She’d known from the moment she’d walked into his pantry before dinner that he’d come to that decision. She’d known that he was leaving, that he was choosing Lady Mary over any sort of personal connections or personal considerations. He was choosing Lady Mary even when he’d expressed to her numerous times over the course of their long acquaintance that he would die in harness at Downton.

As she slowly pulled the pins from her hair and placed them in their porcelain dish, she could feel the subtle change in breathing and pressure behind her eyes that always signaled tears. She sniffed and continued about her task, her mind already looping back over the events of the evening.

_“Don’t tell me you’ll miss me,” he said, tone lightly teasing._

_She knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to break the tension. But while she wasn’t surprised that he’d made this decision, it still felt as if the rug had been pulled out from beneath her. And he needed to know it. She turned back to face him. “I will, Mr. Carson. Very much. And it costs me nothing to say it.”_

He’d been touched by it all. The soft smile he’d offered after thanking her was evidence enough of that. That smile told her that he would miss her too. That he was leaving not because he wanted to, but because he thought it the right thing to do. He was being selfless.

That was perhaps the part that hurt the most, she supposed as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her red-rimmed eyes stared back at her. It was that moment of reckoning with herself that finally forced her to admit to herself that she loved this man. She’d respected and admired him for as long as she’d worked in the house. She’d enjoyed his company and friendship for longer than most of the junior servants had been alive. She’d loved him for far longer than she was willing to examine. And now everything was changing.

It was selfish, she knew, to expect anything except this decision. It was selfish to want him to stay even when she knew it would hurt him to do so. But for this one night, this one single night in the privacy of her own room, she would allow herself to be selfish. She would mourn the loss of the slim possibilities she’d sometimes imagined when she’d allowed herself the indulgence. And then she would carry on tomorrow as if the earth beneath her feet had not shifted because she had no other choice.


	2. let your kindness remain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Mr. Bates's trial.

Elsie leaned back against the closed door, her eyes drifting shut for a brief moment. The day had hardly started and already she was ready for it to be over.

Opening her eyes and releasing a deep breath, Elsie decided a walk was definitely in order. She wasn’t fit for company. She just didn’t have the patience for it at the moment. Slipping on her coat as she slipped out the door, she was careful to close it as quietly as possible. She paused for a moment to pull her gloves from her coat pocket. She worked her fingers into the lined leather, flexing her fingers to adjust the fit. Satisfied, she folded her arms over her chest and set out across the courtyard at a measured pace. 

The air was cold and crisp, not at all unusual for January. A steady wind tugged at her hair and stung her cheeks. The sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky. The bright cheeriness of it did little to brighten her mood.

With no real destination in mind, Elsie found herself heading toward the folly. She usually didn’t take that path. Perhaps that was precisely why she’d gone that way today. The others weren’t likely to go looking for her there. It was the perfect place to think, especially about things she didn’t wish to discuss with either Mrs. Patmore or Mr. Carson. And this feeling of failure, this horrible gnawing guilt, was one she didn’t wish to discuss with anyone.

Frustrated with herself, she kicked at loose bits of gravel. It surprised her how much satisfaction she gained from sending the small stones sailing through the air. A distraction from her troubled thoughts, that’s all it was. Something to focus on other than that so often suppressed inner voice that questioned whether she’d made the right choices.

She veered from the path, the grass soft beneath her feet. She missed having something to kick at. Despite the lack of distraction, she did not increase her pace. To do so seemed unnecessary. Time was immaterial today. The family was away and the others had been given the day off. She had work to do, but it was nothing that wouldn’t keep. She didn’t often have free time. And if she decided to spend what little she did manage to find pitying herself then that was her prerogative. However, that didn’t mean her practical nature wouldn’t rail against the very notion.

“Just stop thinking about it. You made choices, choices you cannot change and cannot fix,” she said under her breath.

Had anyone else been around, she would have been mortified. She wasn’t usually one to talk to herself. But this needed saying, and as she couldn’t talk about it with Mrs. Patmore or Mr. Carson, that left only herself to do the talking. She wished for her mother. If she was there she would have someone to not only tell her she was being ridiculous, but someone who would also offer kind words and a hug. She felt very much in need of a hug.

Finally she reached her destination. The wind had been steadily increasing in strength as she neared the folly. Her ears were very cold and she knew her cheeks must be quite pink. She wished she’d grabbed her scarf before coming out here. But it was too late for that now. Lowering herself carefully to the ground behind a pillar, she was relieved to find that it provided a break from wind. However this relief was not very long-lived. The damp chill of the stone seeped through her coat and dress into her body. An almost violent shiver ran through her, but she refrained from moving. If she just waited a few moments she would adjust.

Then there was the fact that the thought of going back to the house before she sorted herself out made her queasy.

It seemed that nothing was going to keep her from having these stupid irrational thoughts. The only thing to do was to wait them out. So, head in hands, she leaned against a pillar and allowed her thoughts free reign. It was only a matter of moments before the first tears began to fall.

The tears didn’t last very long, just long enough to release the pressure that had slowly been building within her. She still wasn’t happy and she still felt an almost overwhelming guilt, but at least she no longer felt like an exposed nerve. Pulling a handkerchief from inside her sleeve, she wiped beneath her eyes. A few more minutes of quiet reflection would be enough time to mentally prepare herself for her return to the house. If she was circuitous in her route it might also be enough time for her appearance to return to normal.

Elsie wasn’t sure how long she sat there before she heard the first tentative footstep on the stone steps behind her. Startled, she froze. No, no, no. She wasn’t ready for company. She might no longer feel like a woman on the verge of emotional collapse, but she certainly wasn’t ready to speak with anyone either.

“Mrs. Hughes?” the butler’s voice called. He hadn’t seen her yet. She sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t venture far enough into the folly to find her. She was in the middle of promising never again to indulge in such ridiculous behavior when Mr. Carson came into sight. 

He turned his head to the left, his eyes lighting on her immediately. A look of relief flashed across his features before quickly transitioning to confusion. “What are you doing sitting on the ground?”

His confusion was almost enough to make her chuckle. At least he hadn’t ventured upon her while she was in tears. The poor man would have been completely at a loss for what to do. That thought did make her chuckle as she attempted to stand. Unfortunately, the cold had made her limbs stiff and her body refused to cooperate. She wavered unsteadily before falling back to the ground with a soft thud. Before she could attempt to right herself again, Mr. Carson was at her side, kneeling and offering her his hands in support. She was absolutely mortified.

“Thank you, Mr. Carson,” she said after he had helped her to stand. She could feel a fierce blush spread up from her chest, spreading across her face. Knowing that her face must be practically incandescent only served to further add to her embarrassment and thus fuel her flush. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. She brushed the back of her coat and looked down at her trembling hands to avoid his gaze. “I do apologize for appearing so undignified.”

He waved aside her apology. “Are you quite alright? How long have you been out here?” he asked softly, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. A large part of her was touched, but an even larger part of her was embarrassed.

Elsie could feel his eyes upon her and silently prayed he wouldn’t badger her into telling him what was bothering her. She couldn’t tell him. He would think her ridiculous, and that was the last thing she ever wanted. God, this was awful. Clearing her throat, she looked just over Mr. Carson’s shoulder. “Yes, perfectly. I can’t have been out here for very long.” 

The last part was a bald-faced lie. She knew it, and she knew that he knew it. But he seemed content to leave her alone, at least for the moment. She nearly sagged under the weight of her relief.

Mr. Carson watched her as she readjusted her coat and gloves. “Shall we head back?”

She offered him a weak smile. “I suppose we should.”

He returned her smile and gestured for her to lead the way. She did as he bade, hoping they could walk back in companionable silence. Maybe if she didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t either.

She should have known better.

Several minutes passed in blissful silence. Elsie took great comfort in Mr. Carson’s presence at her side. Her shoulder bumped lightly against his arm by mistake. She shot him an apologetic look, which he answered with a small smile. They continued on.

The next bump was his, but it was no accident. Elsie could tell. He nudged her lightly with his elbow, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. He was offering his arm. Wordlessly and without his usual grace, but he was offering all the same. Elsie’s heart skipped a beat. She wrapped her arm around his and allowed herself to be drawn closer. He was so solid and warm. And, in his own particular and often infuriating way, sweet. But he also didn’t know when to leave well enough alone.

“You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?” he asked a moment later, his gaze flitting to her before returning to the lawn before them.

There were many things Elsie could admit she loved about Charles Carson, but his inability to leave her be when she most wanted him to was not one of those things. She tried to formulate some sort of response that would reassure him that she was fine. The problem was she just couldn’t bring herself to do it this time. Not today, not when she felt this gnawing consuming guilt. So instead of offering paltry assurances, she remained silent.

Mr. Carson pulled her just a fraction closer. “Because you know I’m on your side. Don’t you?”

Elsie looked up into his face. “I do know that,” she said, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

He stopped walking and stared at her. She grew uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but she refused to fidget. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage. _He doesn’t believe you. He thinks you’re lying._

It felt like an eternity before he spoke. “I know what it is to regret a choice, Mrs. Hughes. To blame yourself for events you couldn’t possibly have predicted and which would have carried on without your involvement regardless. And Mr. Bates would very likely tell you the same thing.”

She dropped his arm and backed away. Tears welled in her eyes. This was absolutely mortifying. It only got worse when the first few tears trickled down her cheeks. Her breaths were coming in shorter and shorter gasps. Mortified at the display she was making of herself and incapable of stopping, she buried her face in her hands.

 _Elsie Hughes, you’ve brought this upon yourself by listening at that grate. Mam always warned you that your curiosity would bring ruin_ , she thought bitterly. Her shoulders shook with effort not to sob outright. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

It surprised her when Mr. Carson rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. But she couldn’t stop her stupid tears. She couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t do this. It was all too much.

“It might not seem it, but you’ve done nothing wrong,” he whispered.

“I failed Mr. Bates and because of that I failed Anna,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything else. What else could she say at this point?

“You’ve failed no one as long as you told the truth. And I know you to be nothing if not honest.”

They stood there for several silent moments as Elsie slowly regained control over her emotions. She swiped at the tear tracks on her cheeks. Sniffling, she said, “You must think me ridiculous.”

“I could never think that.”

“I don’t see how you couldn’t.”

“Well, I believe I should be the judge of what I think is ridiculous.” He said it with such an air of authority that it drew a short laugh from Elsie. “Ah, that’s better.”

Though it did little to improve her mood, the laughter at least allowed her to regain some of her footing. “Please forgive me, Mr. Carson. I’m so embarrassed.”

Mr. Carson let his hand fall back to his side before taking a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to her. “You’ve done nothing for which you need to be embarrassed.”

She took the proffered token, using the soft linen to wipe away the last of her tears. She offered him a watery smile. “And yet I am. Please accept my apology and let us head back to the house.”


End file.
